


The Screams All Sound the Same

by sherlockstummy



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Arthur has unexpected knowledge, Blood, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, Martin Crieff has inner ear trouble, Nobody is a doctor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2013-06-06
Packaged: 2017-12-12 08:21:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/809395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockstummy/pseuds/sherlockstummy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on lovely sad art by mxdp. When GERT-E finally decides to give up on them and crash, the crew of MJN find themselves in a rather sticky situation. Also, I started associating "Little Talks" by Of Monsters and Men with Cabin Pressure. Ooops.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. This Ship Will Carry Our-

Douglas turned around as Martin returned from his walk-around. The young Captain looked rather a bit more nervous than usual. And Douglas just couldn't resist.

"What's the matter, Martin? Did your hat blow off again?"

It was a true indicator of the seriousness of the situation that Martin didn't even do so much as glare at Douglas for his joke. "The left wing is looking a little more weak than usual, and the horizontal stabilizer is completely gone."

"Wasn't it gone last week when we flew to Douz?"

Martin looked puzzled. "Do you know, I don't remember." He frowned. "I was...distracted."

Douglas could see his captain retreating into his subconscious to berate himself. "Don't start that," he scolded in his best fatherly tone of authority. "We've got to fly this plane over three thousand miles and back again by the end of today, and she's useless without her captain."

That finally produced a chuckle from an overly serious Martin. "And she's fairly useless to begin with."

"Exactly." Douglas relaxed in his seat as Martin resumed his and straightened his cap. "Don't worry, captain. I'm sure my unbeatable luck will get us there and back, as usual." Martin chuckled. "Weird words of the English language?"

"Hoover?" Martin inquired as he wired the tower.

"Granted."

The flight had been going rather smoothly so far. It was a cargo flight, so there were no passengers aboard to attend to. That meant a little less of catering, but the simple pleasure of a delicious ham and cheese sandwich, complete with Arthur's best coffee, could not be underrated. Carolyn, of course, was being her usual self, fussing over the bills and wondering why she'd even bothered to come at all on a cargo flight, Arthur was being his cheery, slightly annoying self, and Martin and Douglas were bickering. 

"No, Douglas, 'Trek' is not a ridiculous word!" 

"It really is. Even the spelling is ridiculous. A 'k' at the end of the word? Really?" 

"I think it's a perfectly fine word, and-" 

The plane lurched in the sky. Carolyn's light went on. Martin grabbed the controls. "Douglas! What does it say is happening?" 

"We're losing altitude!" Douglas cried. "Pull her up!" 

"I'm trying!" Martin's forehead wrinkled as he strained at the controls, his hat flying off his head as he bucked in his chair. Douglas tried to help Martin with his own controls, getting on the intercom to tell Carolyn and Arthur to buckle up. 

Martin diverted the course of the plane with Douglas' help, looking for a clear spot of land to crash. "I can't hold her much longer!" Martin cried, sweat pouring into his eyes with the effort he was exerting. 

"Over there!" Douglas pointed. "That looks like a good place to crash!" 

"If I had my choice of landings," Martin grumbled and he started to steer the plane down. "Hold on!" He shouted over the intercom. 

As they were descending, Douglas lurched forward, cutting the side of his head against the console. The bump made him pass into unconsciousness. Martin looked over to see his First Officer down, and felt a wave of nausea begin in his stomach. He'd been alone in the flight deck before, and had flown alone before, but not in such a traumatic situation. He was terrified, and there was no one there to reassure him. 

"I have control," he told himself, repeating it like a mantra. "I have control, I have control, I have control. I can do this." He took a deep breath and tried to guide GERT-I gently down to the ground below. 

It wouldn't make it into his personal log book as one of his favorite landings, but it was probably the least uneventful Martin Crieff would ever have in his lifetime.


	2. Close Your Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone orients themselves after the crash landing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't remember much about Martin's inner ear troubles. I know he passed out from being dizzy, but I played with the idea a bit more. Sue me.

Arthur is the first one to leave the plane. He can't look at it, at serious risk now of having his perpetually sunny disposition soured completely. His mum's lovely little plane in pieces on the ground. It's too much for him to bear right now. As he's walking out of the plane, he feels a flare of pain on his leg and looks down. Blood. He's scraped the area just below his knee. Arthur hasn't been hurt like this since he fell off his bicycle when he was a kid.

"Mum?" He calls. Twenty nine years old, and that's still his first instinct. It should probably amaze and embarrass him, but it doesn't. He hears grunting behind him and looks over his shoulder, still refusing to completely face the mass of smoking metal and gaffer tape that is GERT-I. Martin is supporting Douglas, who is unconscious and bleeding from a head wound. It looks a lot worse than it is-Arthur learned that from reading something he found on the Internet a few days before this trip. Maybe Douglas is just knocked out. Martin looks a bit sick, and there's a bit of blood trickling from his ear, but he looks otherwise unharmed. Martin is able to walk halfway to Arthur before he starts struggling with Douglas' weight, and the steward runs to help him. As soon as Arthur takes Douglas from him, Martin turns to the side and vomits loudly. Arthur winces, not too fond of the noise and smell of bile, and walks Douglas farther from the wreckage. His slightly larger, bulkier frame easily supports the older, podgy man, unlike Martin, whose lanky frame could barely support another body, never mind one that's a dead weight.

Martin joins Arthur and takes the body of his first officer, guiding him to sit on the ground. He knees to support Douglas' body and sighs, chuckling weakly. "What I wouldn't give for a mint."

Arthur reaches into his pocket and produces a wrapped peppermint. "Here you are, Skip!"

Martin catches it and unwraps it with one hand, working his long, deft fingers around the plastic. "Thanks." He pops it in his mouth and starts working his tongue around it.

"What happened?" Arthur asked, still standing. "Why were you sick just now?"

Martin gestured vaguely at his ears. "I have inner ear trouble, remember? I think when the plane was going down...it just acted up." Martin's eyes close a moment and he sways. Arthur belatedly remembers back to the safety exam, and what exactly had happened when Martin had gotten dizzy. 

"Don't!" Arthur bends to shake his shoulder. "Don't pass out now, Skip! We have to find mum."

"Not like I can really help it, can I?" But Martin rubs his fingers into his temples, seeming to gain control over his odd ailment. "Right. Let's find Carolyn." He lays Douglas down and rises, his legs wobbly. Arthur is just about to help him, when he hears something from the wreckage. It sounds a lot like "lazy pilots."

"Mum!" Arthur cries excitedly. "She's alive, Skip!" But when Arthur turns back, Skip is looking green again.

The captain waves away Arthur. "You go," he chokes out before turning to the side and vomiting again. 

Arthur doesn't need further invitation and runs off to get his mum. Part of the wing seems to have fallen on her leg while she was trying to get out. Perhaps Arthur hadn't been the first one out of the plane after all. Either way, the steward bends to help his mother to her feet. "Mum, can you walk?" He asks hesitantly. For a minute, Carolyn looks at him, and then hugs him tightly. Arthur is surprised by the sudden affection, but responds in kind.

"Yes, I'm all right. I'm glad you are, too," She pulls away, all business, seeming to ignore the emotion that was just present in her words. "Right. Well. This is a rough mess." She tries to stand on her leg, but hisses in pain.

"Mum!" Arthur cries, his eyes flying to her foot.

"I'm okay," she reassures him. "I think I sprained it."

Arthur helps her back to the rest of the crew. Martin has buried all evidence of his sick and is now using his undershirt to clean the blood from Douglas' head wound. He looks up upon seeing Carolyn and Arthur returning and gives a short nod, glad to see that Arthur's expedition didn't harm them. "Are you okay, Carolyn?"

"I'm fine," Carolyn snapped. "How's Douglas? Sleeping on the job as usual?"

"I think he hit his head while we were crashing," Martin replied thoughtfully. Dizziness seems to overwhelm him again because his eyes flutter closed and he sways.

"Oh, of course," Carolyn grumbled. "Inner ear troubles. All right, Martin, you lie down."

"What?" Martin jumps back to full conacious. "Carolyn, I'm the captain, and-"

"If you say that one more time, I'm going to punch you." Carolyn interrupted him. "You're to do as I tell you. Lie down. You'll be no use to any of us if you pass out for four hours like you did last time."

Martin, subdued by Carolyn's commanding tone, obeys and lies down on the sandy ground, crossing his arms over his chest and closing his eyes against the bright sunlight. Eventually, he put one arms over his eyes to give himself more shade, groaning quietly.

Carolyn gets off of Arthur and hobbles over to sit beside her pilots. Arthur finally sits down, too, standing by in case Carolyn needs him. "How are you feeling now, Martin?"

The captain groans again. "Still dizzy. My ears are ringing." He turns slightly to peep at Carolyn from beneath his makeshift shade. "I'm okay physically. I just feel awful."

"And you vomited twice." At his glance, Carolyn rolled her eyes. "The smell of it is strong, and I don't think it was Arthur or Douglas. It certainly wasn't me."

Martin closed his eyes. "One time violent reaction. I'm not queasy."

"Anymore." Carolyn reaches down to touch her ankle and winces. "Lovely. Well. Martin, do you have any idea where we are?"

"Caribbean?" Martin guessed. "Wasn't paying attention."

"Typical of my pilots." Carolyn grumbled. "We'll probably need food and shelter for the night. We should really explore the island, but I can't in my state, Douglas is passed out, you can't in yours, and I need Arthur here to tend to all of us. And we should explore in pairs, just in case."

"What do we do, mum?" Arthur asked hesitantly.

"We wait." Carolyn replied, looking up at the sky. "And hope it doesn't rain on us."

"Carolyn..." Martin's voice was weak.

"Go to sleep." Carolyn ordered and looked at Arthur. "You too. I'll keep watch for a while."

Arthur lay down and followed Skip's example. The sand was cold and clammy, but the sun was warm and relaxing. Arthur could feel the body heat of his companions, and eventually, he heard Martin's breathing slow and a light, snuffling snore begin every third breath. Eventually, Arthur drifted off to sleep as well, listening to the breathing of his crew.


	3. We're Torn Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More aches are discovered, and food is paramount.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying very hard to incorporate the very informative lesson on inner ear troubles I received from KerkerianHorizon. I usually don't take the coward's way out in h/c fics, but I'm not a doctor, nor am I a med student, so I might not be medically accurate all the time. I'm trying, though. 
> 
> I hope you guys like where I'm going with this. Peace!

Douglas awoke to the sound of muffled sobbing. He sat up slowly, his head aching from where he hit it against the console, and blinked blearily. It was dark out, and they were outside, on a beach. He didn't remember night falling, nor did he remember leaving the plane. Martin must have brought him outside. The first officer sighed at himself, feeling sorry that the scrawny ginger captain had lugged his unconscious body out of GERT-I. He looked over towards the source of the noise.

Martin was sitting up, his forehead pressed against his knees and his hand cupping his ear. His body was shaking, so it was quite obvious the sobs were coming from him. Douglas put a hand on Martin's shoulder, making the young captain jump. "D-Douglas," he stammered, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. "D-did I wake you? I'm s-sorry, I'm f-fine." He tried to pull away from Douglas' grip, but the twisting that resulted only made him wince, more tears cascading down his pale cheeks.

Douglas noticed Marin was bleeding from the ear. "That looks painful." 

Martin nodded, wincing as he did so. "It is. I'm having trouble hearing clearly. I hope it doesn't last."

"I think you've torn your tympanic membrane," Douglas replied softly. "It's too early to tell if the hearing loss will be permanent."

But, apparently, all Martin heard was the "permanent." He began to fuss and tear up again. "Douglas, it can't be! What if they don't let me fly again? It's my life!" He nearly shouted this last part and recoiled. "Ow. It really hurts."

"Yes, well, it should," Douglas replied. "We may have some medical supplies aboard GERT-I. Would you like me to see if we have aspirin?"

Martin winced. "I'm nauseous. I don't know if I can keep it down."

Douglas nodded. "All right. I know it's difficult to sleep right now, but you should probably try. You look exhausted."

"I can't lay down again," Martin panicked. "I already did before, when Carolyn told me too, and it just made me feel worse! I c-can't, I'm the c-captain, I should keep watch, and-"

Douglas stretched his legs out, spreading them a bit before trying to maneuver Martin's body towards him. As expected, Martin pulled back. "D-Douglas, what are you doing?"

"You need to be propped up against something. There are a few trees over there, but I don't want to leave you there when there might be animals. Lean against me." When Martin still looked at him strangely, Douglas rolled his eyes. "For pity's sake, Martin, I've had three wives. I think I'd know by now if I was gay. It's just practical."

Martin hesitated, worried Douglas was trying to pull one over on him. But, eventually, the fact that he was so tired won over his pride, and he crawled weakly over to lean against Douglas. As Martin lay back against Douglas' chest, he couldn't help but sigh. Douglas was taller than he was, but for once, the situation wasn't made awkward by it. The first officer was warm and soft (both from his years and from having steady meals up until now), and it was quickly lulling Martin to sleep. If only his ears would stop ringing.

The sound of the waves crashing on the shore started to drown out the ringing in his ears, and Martin finally relaxed. "Why are you letting me do this?"

"Do what?"

"...lay against you, like this. Why are you letting me?"

Douglas chuckled. "Well, for one thing, it adds to the long list of favors you owe me," at this, Martin made a disapproving hum. "But, you did me one by dragging me out of the plane. No easy feat, I imagine. So this is thanks for that."

Martin tilted his head up to look at Douglas' face. His ear quickly decided this was a bad idea, but Martin was getting used to the pain. "Douglas, it was no trouble. I'm the captain, and it's my job to look out for those under my command."

"As you say," Douglas said airily. "But it would've been less trouble if I was twenty pounds lighter."

Martin chuckled a bit, glad that there could be a bit of lightheartedness to brighten the gloom of yesterday's events. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Go to sleep now."

Martin didn't need to be told twice. Despite the annoyance of the pain and the ringing, he managed to sleep pretty soundly, wrapped in Douglas' arms.

Arthur was the first one to wake up in the morning. "Wow! Douglas! Did you and Martin get together over night?" As excited as he sounded, he was a little disappointed to realize he'd missed it.

Douglas, started out of his thoughts, sighed deeply. "No, Arthur. Martin was feeling ill last night and needed to sit up, and I was the only thing available." He stole a glance at Martin, who had seemed to turn slightly inward during the night. Possibly seeking more warmth and comfort. Carolyn seemed to be still asleep. 

"That's brilliant!" Arthur enthused. "I knew you actually liked Martin!"

"Well," Douglas replied, "of course I like him. He's not quite my type for obvious reasons, but he's not a bad person. I have no reason to genuinely dislike him."

"Oh. Only you act like you do, sometimes."

This revelation hurt Douglas, and he looked down tenderly at the pilot in his lap. Sure, Martin could be a berk sometimes, and sure his stammering and shyness could get on one's nerves, but Martin stood up for what he believed was right, and he was a good friend to boot. Douglas knew he wasn't the best at showing affection, friendly or otherwise (being able to charm stewardesses into his bed aside), but he didn't realize how, sometimes, he was more than a little cruel to Sir. Luckily, the emotional thoughts he was having were broken by a rather loud grumble.

"Sorry," Arthur mumbled, looking at his lap. "I'm starving. We didn't have any dinner last night, and I usually eat breakfast by now."

"You don't mean you have a watch on you."

"No, sorry, but I can sort of read the sun!" Arthur replied cheerily.

Douglas hummed in thought. That might become useful. His stomach growled as well, and he was beginning to think about how they could possibly get food on an island. And, more importantly, how to survive and get rescued. "We will need food soon," he announced. "All of us, but Martin especially. He's ended up the most wounded out of all of us. We need a source of water, as well, and I don't know how well GERT-I's up and running."

Martin stirred, obviously able to feel the rumble of Douglas' voice against his cheek, and sat up a little. He didn't feel as badly today, but he wasn't sure if that was because he'd become used to the pain, or because it was actually better. "Morning," he said, yawning a bit. 

"Ah, Sleeping Beauty awakes! And how is Sir feeling this morning?"

"Better, Douglas, thank you. Hullo, Arthur."

"Hullo, Skip!" Arthur waved enthusiastically.

"Sir comes to at an appropriate time," Douglas rumbled. "We were just thinking about what to do for breakfast."

Martin wet his lips. "I'm ravenous. What were you planning on?"

Douglas looked from Arthur to Martin and sighed. "It's not going to be easy," he said. "I don't want to leave you, Martin, since you're not fit to fend off anything that might come scavenging. And I can't very well take you with me."

"Why not?" Martin hissed indignantly. "I'm fine to go!" He sat away from Douglas and stood, rather uneasily. He didn't know which way was down, however, and Douglas got up on his knees to steady Martin before he could fall. 

"As I said, no condition."

"Oo! I could see what we have on GERT-I!" Arthur suggested. 

"Good idea," Douglas praised. "That might be enough to start."

Arthur nodded happily and went into the galley. He seemed to be the only one who had come out relatively unscathed. 

Douglas got to his feet. Martin was still staring after Arthur into the plane wistfully, his eyes glassy and vacant, his body swaying in the slight breeze. It could be worse, Douglas thought. At least it was fairly warm here. They might be starving and injured and without a way off the island, but they were in no danger of freezing to death.

"Do you think we'll ever get home?" Martin asked.

Douglas shrugged. "We'll have to wait and see."

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know a lot about aeroplanes, sorry! Also, I don't know where this would fit in the canon, so yeah, just roll with it. Yellow car! Edit: Also, fixed the spelling of GERT-I.


End file.
